Shadows of Redemption

Chapter 5: Shadows of Malfoy Manor

Harriet's POV

Danger. It was a constant, invisible force that draped over Malfoy Manor like a suffocating blanket. Even as a Kneazle, I could feel it, the way the walls seemed to hum with tension, the way shadows danced in corners where light should have banished them. And now, Draco's mother had become a very real reminder of that danger.

The moment Narcissa Malfoy left the room, I crept out from under the bed, my paws silent on the carpeted floor. Draco let out a long sigh, leaning against the door, his expression strained. The laugh we had shared only moments ago seemed a distant memory, replaced by a cold seriousness that settled over him.

He caught my eye and gave me a grim smile. "You know," he said, his voice low, "I'm starting to think you're better at hiding than you are at fighting."

I didn't bother reacting to that. Instead, I leaped onto the windowsill and pressed my nose against the glass. Outside, the gardens of Malfoy Manor stretched out, eerily beautiful and perfectly maintained, but they were also guarded by enchantments and wards. Even if I could escape into the grounds, I wouldn't get far. Not as a Kneazle.

Draco followed my gaze, his hands in his pockets. "I can't let you get caught," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "If my parents find out you're here... well, Father would see it as a gift to the Dark Lord. And Mother..." His voice wavered, and he looked away.

My heart twisted, and I hated that I felt any sympathy for him. Draco Malfoy wasn't supposed to be someone I pitied. He was supposed to be my enemy. But as I watched him struggle with something I couldn't begin to understand, I wondered if the lines between us were beginning to blur.

With a small sigh, I hopped down from the windowsill and made my way to his feet. I placed a paw on his shoe, trying to convey that I understood, even if I couldn't say the words.

Draco stared down at me, his eyes stormy and conflicted. "I need to be careful," he whispered. "Father's been talking about... plans. Important meetings. There's no way I can let you get caught up in it."

He knelt down, his hands coming to rest on the floor. "You don't trust me, do you?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with something like hurt. "I wouldn't trust me either."

I studied him, and for the first time, I let my guard down a little. If he had wanted to betray me, he could have done so by now. Instead, he was protecting me, as much as it made no sense. Maybe, just maybe, I could trust him enough to get through this summer alive.

Before I could respond in any way, there was a knock at the door. Draco shot to his feet, panic flashing in his eyes. I scrambled under the bed again, my heart racing as he opened the door.

Draco's POV

Fear had become a constant companion, one I could never quite shake. As I opened the door, I plastered on the usual mask I wore around my parents and their associates: calm, composed, the perfect Malfoy son.

To my relief, it was only one of the house-elves, a small creature with enormous eyes and trembling hands. "Master Draco," it squeaked, bowing low. "Mistress Narcissa says the guests have arrived. She asks that you make yourself presentable."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I'll be there shortly."

The house-elf disappeared with a snap of its fingers, and I closed the door, leaning heavily against it. Guests. That meant important people, likely people aligned with the Dark Lord. I couldn't afford to make a single mistake.

I glanced at the bed, and Harriet's green eyes peeked out from underneath. "Stay hidden," I said, my voice harsher than I intended. "No matter what you hear, no matter what happens, do not come out. Do you understand?"

She blinked once, slowly, and I knew she understood. I hated the fear in her eyes, hated that I was the one putting it there, but I had no choice. This was bigger than either of us, and I had to play my part if we were going to survive.

I changed into more formal robes, the emerald green ones that Mother insisted brought out my eyes. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: the perfect picture of a pureblood son, trained to serve a cause I was no longer sure I believed in.

Taking a deep breath, I left the room, closing the door behind me. As I made my way down the corridor, the weight of the Manor seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on my chest. The voices coming from the drawing room drifted through the halls, cold and sharp, and I recognized some of them immediately.

My father's, deep and commanding. Bellatrix Lestrange, with her unhinged laughter that made my skin crawl. And others, voices I couldn't place but knew were dangerous.

I entered the drawing room and bowed, the picture of obedience. My father's gaze settled on me, assessing, and I forced myself to meet it without flinching. Bellatrix's eyes glinted with a manic glee, and I kept my expression carefully blank.

"Draco," my father said, his voice silky and dangerous. "We were just discussing our plans for the coming school year. It's good that you'll be prepared."

Plans. The word sent a chill down my spine. I nodded, swallowing the fear that threatened to choke me. "Of course, Father. I'm ready."

I had to be. For Harriet, and for whatever fragile alliance was beginning to form between us, I had to be ready.